


No Control

by maxelau



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24586099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxelau/pseuds/maxelau
Summary: On a weekend, Na Jaemin could be seen hustling his way through morning soccer practice. When nighttime rolls and the party starts, eye-witnesses say he'd be jumping from the second-floor window and into the pool without even batting an eye. Others claim he'd have some random person on his arms before the sun rises. It was not an ideal lifestyle but no one really had the guts to question Jaemin and his choices. As long as his grades don't start dipping, everything will be all right, right?orNa Jaemin meets his English tutor, Lee Jeno, and Jaemin might finally experience what it feels like to be the one chasing someone else for their affection.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Kudos: 26
Collections: NOMIN FIC FEST





	No Control

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 118 - Popular jock Jaemin finds himself falling for his English tutor Jeno. He wants to ask him out but he doesn’t know how. Cue his awkward (yet adorable) attempts to woo Jeno.

Na Jaemin was a simple man. He loves soccer, melted ice cream, his pet dogs back home, foreign languages, and people. He liked a lot of people, not in a romantic way, but in a more of a convenient matter. He liked being surrounded by people, strangers, friends, and even proclaimed enemies.

He adored soccer games—the cheers, the booming voices of support, the whistles like he was being trapped inside a hollow bubble. Everything echoed but remained untouched, everything felt real and surreal at the same time. It was a sacred place because all eyes were on him, his team, and the enemy. 

It was not a surprise that soccer helps fuel his egotism, or that was what Donghyuck has been saying. It attracted more attention towards Jaemin, plus, he was the university team’s ace which added more to his already inflating ego. Everywhere he goes, people recognized him. Sometimes as the crazy bastard who went all out during a senior party—like jumping from a two-story building into the pool or the hot dude who plays soccer. Whatever people prefer, Jaemin liked both descriptions. 

All of this was how Na Jaemin imagined his university life would be—soccer, booze, people, occasionally drugs, sex, parties— a cluster fuck of cliché Hollywood spring break stories. It was raunchy and perfect. It suited his aloof lifestyle and outlook in life. As long as he’s happy, everything will be all right. 

Besides, as long as his grades don’t start dipping down he’ll be fine. Life is too short to worry about the smallest things. Right?

What Na Jaemin did not expect was an email from his professor with big bold letters saying URGENT. 

* * *

Jaemin gently touched the edge of his blue locker. The cold metal felt soothing against his hot tan skin and for a brief moment, the heat of the stadium left his body. 

He can still hear it— the cheers, the booming voices of support, the whistles like he was being trapped inside a hollow bubble. Everything echoed but remained untouched, everything felt real and surreal at the same time. The game was at its peak and Jaemin was high from the adrenaline. The crowd was amazing that day and he could not stop the grin on his face. But, as quick as it appeared, a frown has now graced his once bright face. 

He took a deep breath, wiped the sweat with the fluffy white cotton towel. With a soft push and the familiar click, the metal door closed itself. Lucas hovered behind him, a bit uncertain. His brows furrowed and his usual lopsided grin has turned into a worried frown.

"Don't even start," Jaemin said with a heavy sigh. He turned around to find himself face to face with Lucas's towering figure. His teammate gave him a comforting pat. 

“Well, coach Lee thinks otherwise.”

Jaemin ruffled his pink hair and sat on one of the benches. With his head low and a regretful sigh, he replied, “I know.” 

Lucas crossed his arms, “You’ll be fine. Mark and I are on your side. We want what’s best for you,” he said with a firm conviction.

Jaemin scrunched his nose in disgust, “Stop. You sound like my dad.” Lucas rolled his eyes, “We’re actually just worried, okay? We don’t want our ace being benched before the actual game season.” 

Jaemin looked down at his feet. The dragging weight of his reality finally dawning upon him. Life wasn’t as easy as it looked. It was far from it— _the grind never stops_ , Mark would say and Jaemin would easily dismiss him. Now, Jaemin was at the point in his life where those words were as important as his soccer career.

“I—” Jaemin started but his voice betrayed him. Lucas ignored it, instead, he urged Jaemin to continue with a small nod. “The coach wants me to take a break from playing,” he raised his hand to tell Lucas to wait for him to finish, “I can still go to training but sorry to disappoint you, during games, I am benched.”

Lucas doesn’t reply and Jaemin squinted his eyes shut. He was preparing for the upcoming scolding that will fly out of his captain’s mouth. After months of training and hanging out with Lucas, Jaemin has learned that whenever Lucas is frustrated, he immediately shuts down and turns into this broken polyglot monster. He would start spatting words that won’t make sense. Yet, it still scared him. Miraculously, Mark Lee was the only one who could understand him. 

Out of nowhere, he felt another comforting pat, this time on the top of his head. Jaemin looked up and met Lucas who was smiling softly at him, “You’ll be fine. You’re the Na Jaemin.” 

Jaemin blinked, confused, albeit glad he didn’t get the usual scolding a freshman should get. “W-what?”

The smile on Lucas’s face was still bright, almost blinding. 

“Remember, coach Lee specifically picked you out of hundreds of kids. He’s a mean old ma—”

“He’s like thirty. He’s not that _old,_ ” Jaemin interrupted. He was still not quite sure where the conversation was going but if it meant avoiding the coach’s wrath and Mark Lee, the vice-captain’s motherly scolding, then he’ll let Lucas do all the ridiculous talking. 

“Fine, he’s not that old but he also doesn’t get mad that often,” Lucas continued.

Jaemin, this time frowned, “You’re just adding salt to my wound dude.”

“Not my point kid,” Lucas asserted. “What I’m trying to say here is that the coach cares and whatever reason made him drag your ass out of the game, two minutes before it ended just to scold you in front of like fifty fawning girls then it means he cares.”

Jaemin had an unreadable look on his face," Doesn't feel like it though.” He was starting to consider Mark’s scolding to this— to whatever this was. 

Lucas heaved a big sigh, patiently replied, “The coach cares, okay?” Jaemin shook his head. “What did you even do to the coach that made him bite your ass for it?”

A pregnant silence enveloped the cold locker room. Jaemin bit his lips, multiple questions flooded his mind but one prominent one remained certain, was everything worth it?

“Promise me you won’t laugh at me,” he glared at Lucas. The captain, a bit uncertain, nodded, “Sure.”

“Okay, you promise dude,” Jaemin warned. He then took a deep breath and avoided looking Lucas straight in the eye. 

“I failed my English midterms,” Jaemin mumbled, he cracked his knuckles nervously while Lucas leaned closer. “What? I didn’t quite catch it Na,” he said cheekily.

In response, Jaemin punched Lucas’s biceps and felt a sharp ache that pierced through his knuckles. 

"Holy shit big guy, what does the coach feed you? Dumbbells and leek juice?" Jaemin winced.

Lucas simply chuckled and shook his head, “If you didn’t miss workout sessions with the team then you’d have these guns,” he patted his biceps and gave Jaemin a wink. “Though, you aren’t bad yourself,” Lucas pointed out. “You can be an idol.”

Jaemin smirked, “I could if I wanted too. With this looks man I could—”

“I know, but you chose the soccer life. You’ve mentioned this a thousand times,” Lucas rolled his eyes. “Plus, I don’t think they accept kids who can’t even pass their major exams,” he teased.

Jaemin simply sighed and stood up, “Well, I have a report tomorrow. Goodbye, big guy!” He waved the towel that previously hung on his nape. Lucas simply shook his head with a small smile, “See you tomorrow Na!”

* * *

Professor Moon was aggressively tapping his worn-out black leather shoes on the wooden floor. His eyebrows furrowed while he licked his lips with a hint of worry. A pair of beady round eyes gave Jaemin a pitiful look. 

"I—" Professor Moon started, ending the dreadful silence in the foreign language faculty room. Jaemin gulped, he shuffled his foot forward and scratched the back of his head. 

He observed every nook and cranny of the foreign language faculty room just to avoid awkwardly looking at his professor. The walls were white— stale, almost dreadful to look at. Each cubicle was empty, save for the Japanese instructor, Professor Nakamoto. His table was next to professor Moon's tidy desk— the stack of what seemed like ungraded papers, sat comfortably between an empty cup of coffee and the monitor that was playing a peculiar screen saver. It was a little bunny jumping around the black expanse of the screen, as if it was lost, just like Jaemin.

The Japanese professor's blond lop of hair was eye-catching. It added a touch of color to the boring white room. Since the beginning of the conversation, Jaemin could tell he was listening to his and professor Moon’s little exchange, albeit looking busy, Jaemin could hear a soft chuckle being emitted every time the professor said something remotely dramatic.

"You need help," Professor Moon said with a heavy sigh. This time Jaemin reacted. He could not help his mouth hanging agape, his eyes blinking quite rapidly than normal and his hand did gestures that show a strong sense of confusion and uncertainty. “I thought I only failed my test? What do you mean I need help?”

“Well, son—” a chuckle emitted from Professor Moon’s side. They took a peek at the Japanese professor’s desk and heard him utter, “He called him son like he’s a forty-five-year-old redneck with ten kids.” Jaemin fought a snort of laughter from spilling out of his mouth while the English professor simply rolled his eyes and ignored his colleague’s remark.

"I know English is a hard subject," Professor Moon removed his round glasses, he gently placed it on top of the stack of papers and faced his desktop. He massaged his temples and wore his specs once again. He typed in his password before opening an excel sheet. Jaemin licked his lips, he was unsure of where the conversation was heading. This could end in two ways: he gets out here with extra work, which will affect his training or, he needs to drop the subject and retake it the next semester. The latter sounded plausible but with his current spot in university, it wasn’t advisable.

"I admit, students in my class barely pass but the thing is, they do. The problem with you, Na Jaemin, is you’re not some simple student who can waltz in my class and ditch it the moment they start failing. A single mistake will not only affect your position in the starting team but as well as your scholarship," Professor Moon explained, voice laced with concern. 

An abrupt pause graced both of them. Jaemin stood still, eyes looking distant, almost empty. He gulped and bit his lips. In the back of his mind, he knew this all along. It constantly haunted him. One wrong move will not only cost him his soccer career but as well as the sole reason why he was in Seoul, his varsity scholarship grant. 

The professor seemed to have noticed Jaemin’s inner turmoil because he immediately said, "Do not fret young man, "Jaemin took a deep breath and with his softest voice asked, "What should I do? Do extra credit?”

Professor Moon shook his head and chuckled, on the other hand, Professor Nakamoto rolled out of his cubicle to watch their conversation unfold. This time he doesn’t hide it and blatantly observes them. 

“No, you don’t need one. We’re still in the first few weeks of the semester. Midterms are a few months away but I think you can catch up. You just need a little push,” the professor smiled at him. Jaemin raised an eyebrow in question, “How?” 

“We’re going old school kid,” Professor Moon smirked. Jaemin’s forehead furrowed, “what?”

The English professor sighed. He gently placed his hand on Jaemin’s shoulder and with a determined look said, “Trust me, kid. You’ll thank me later.”

* * *

"So, what did professor Moon want?" Donghyuck inquired once Jaemin left the faculty room. Donghyuck extended his hand and Jaemin responded with their ridiculous handshake. The longer they’ve been together, the lengthier and more complicated it gets. He’s surprised that the both of them seemed to recall the minute-long handshake without missing a beat. 

After that, they both started walking towards the exit of the social science building. It was almost eight pm and the night sky was already as dark as the vortex that was swirling inside Jaemin's empty stomach— a pitch-black hole that needed to be fed both literally and emotionally. He was still pissed off not only at the circumstances at hand but as well at his carelessness. 

Jaemin gulped, "I'm failing one of my major classes." Donghyuck halted. The crunch of the dried leaves under his shoe echoed on the empty courtyard along with the roaring fountain in the middle of it. Jaemin tried so hard not to roll his eyes because Lee Donghyuck was one dramatic character and Jaemin was not having it that night. He already had enough things to worry about and he had no time to hear another ten-hour lecture from his friend.

"You w-what?" Donghyuck stuttered and proceeded to cross his arms while glaring at Jaemin. In defeat, Jaemin simply raised his arms, “Dude, I admit it was my fault—”

Donghyuck decided to cut him off before he could finish, “Have you been partying again? I know you think you’re some hotshot who needs to be at every ridiculous party but come on Jaemin, you know you’ll lose your—”

“I know!” Jaemin lashed out. At the same time, the fountain by their side slowly turned off by itself. They immediately look at it with wide eyes. For a moment, the only thing Jaemin could hear was a loud boom in his ears. It repeated over and over again, along with his rapid breathing. He took a peek at his friend and saw Donghyuck glanced at him with his mouth apart. He was breathing heavily too while his eyes shook.

“T-that kind of scared me,” Donghyuck admitted. Footsteps followed suit and he was now standing extremely close to Jaemin. He doesn't mind though because he was still processing what just occurred. “Did I just shout at you?” he asked.

Donghyuck patted him in the back, “You did and I’m not going to sulk over it, but what's in your ass for you to get this touchy? You can tell me.”

Jaemin took a deep breath and said, “It’s just that these days all I hear is how important my scholarship is and my position in the soccer team. I know that obviously. I just did not know that my worst fear would finally haunt me.”

They both continued walking inside the campus. The streets were already dark and they both could barely see the people from afar. The night was eerie but bearable. The cold wind and the sudden rustling from the bushes and trees were the things he gradually got used to over the months since he started university.

“It didn't scare you enough because you failed Jaemin. You wouldn't be in this position if you were terrified,” Donghyuck’s words felt like a huge slap on Jaemin’s face. These days he has been too lenient, he hated admitting it to himself but right now, it was an inescapable reality.

“I-” Jaemin’s voice hanged thinly in the night air. Despite their everyday disagreements and ridiculous banter, Jaemin could not help but agree with Donghyuck’s statement. Ever since the semester started, he was too comfortable with how things were going. He was too laid back to the point that he ignored everything and concentrated on the wrong things. He disregarded his studies, in his defense, it was just for a little bit. He was doing good with his elective classes, but then again, one cannot have everything. He was faced with a situation that was entirely his fault. Tragic, but who else could he blame.

Jaemin’s eyebrows raised and he looked directly at his best friend's face, “You know you're such an asshole but you say the wisest things.” A warm feeling erupted in Jaemin, maybe, at times Donghyuck was really that nice friend everyone deserved.

Haechan smirked and flicked Jaemin’s ear, “You are a dumbass but I’ll let the insult slide. I could tell this sudden reverse Uno card on your life is taking a toll on you.”

Jaemin puffed his cheeks and exhaled loudly, “Oh, you have no idea man. Coach benched me while Moon wants someone to tutor me.” He tightly gripped his backpack and continued to trudge on in the evening street.

“Who’s going to have the patience to handle a jock like you?” His best friend mused.

“I'm not a jock,” Jaemin answered defensively. 

“Well, at the rate you're going right now, you might not be by the time we graduate. Given, if both of us can graduate on time,” Donghyuck mocked with a cheeky smile. In a knick of time, he luckily avoided a slap that he knew damn well was coming at him and Jaemin cursed softly to himself, a little disappointed for missing. Donghyuck snuck his tongue out playfully and this fueled Jaemin’s annoyance. 

“Stop it asshole.”

“Fine dude. I won't tease you anymore,” he hummed but Jaemin was still glaring threateningly. Donghyuck laughed once more before raising both of his hands in defense. “I promise man. You have my word.”

It was Donghyuck who slid back into the subject, the Na Jaemin failing his English class subject. They were in a lighter place within the campus. Since the library was open 24/7, the lighting was brighter and the atmosphere felt more lively, maybe it's because they were surrounded by students walking in and out of the building, instead of mysterious creatures that rustled the bushes or actual ghosts.

“So who’s the unlucky person?” Donghyuck asked while he waved softly towards a person, definitely a student, that Jaemin did not recognize. 

“I actually don’t know them,” Jaemin admitted. Donghyuck’s eyebrows raised in question at Jaemin’s claim, “what do you mean you don’t know them? How the heck are you going to meet up and study?” 

“Calm down,” Jaemin yawned. The exhaustion finally seeping in his body. The day’s worth of work was finally catching up with him. 

“It’s just some guy named Lee Jeno,” Jaemin recalled the professor asking him to write down some kid’s name and email from the tutor organization. 

“That’s an interesting name. I haven’t heard anyone who goes by Jeno.”

“Really?” Jaemin’s nose wrinkled. Both of them stopped to wait for a few cars to pass by. Donghyuck was holding his phone and Jaemin observed that it would not stop lighting up. He glanced up at Donghyuck’s unwavering figure and concluded maybe it was one of his groupmates from one of his courses.

“Well, have you?” Donghyuck genuinely asked. 

Jaemin took a moment to think, has he ever met a person or heard of a person who was named Jeno? After a few more seconds of assessing his friend list, from notorious partygoers, the people he dated, the soccer team, and anyone who he has encountered even for a millisecond throughout his college life, he answered, “Honestly, no.”

Donghyuck hummed, “He could be interesting, you know.”

The traffic light finally turned red and on the other side of the street, the crossing signal finally turned green.

“I sure hope so,” Jaemin muttered before walking once again. Whatever tomorrow holds or the next day or the day after that, all Jaemin wanted was to pass this godforsaken subject.

* * *

Na Jaemin met Lee Jeno in the most mundane way possible. In his defense, how else was he supposed to do it? A supposed grand entrance wouldn’t really work in the library. It would look ridiculous. Besides, Jaemin wanted to at least impress his English tutor. The guy could be, as Donghyuck mentioned the other night, an interesting guy. And, Jaemin firmly believed in the saying, _first impressions always last_. 

So, on a Saturday afternoon, after ten laps around the field and a friendly practice game with his teammates, Jaemin rushed back to his dormitory to take a much-needed shower before meeting Lee Jeno. He wanted to look sleek but trustworthy, casual but smart, handsome but not too much, and not over the top but impressive. Jaemin wanted to leave a lasting mark on the guy. If they ever start on the wrong foot, at least Lee Jeno will remember him as the good-looking guy who was dumb to fail his first test but smart enough to impress Jeno.

Also, he needs to win this guy’s favor because Lee Jeno is his ticket out of this hell hole.

Jeno's eyes were occupied when Jaemin saw him for the first time. They were focused on the book he was reading. On the cover, it said it was written by a man named Herman Hesse. A name Jaemin has never heard. Christ, he can’t even pronounce it without stuttering like a moron.

Jeno’s eyes darted back and forth with practiced ease. Despite Jeno’s attractive features—a tall nose, a strong jawline, and a beauty mark that sat beautifully between his cheekbones and his eyes, Jaemin was heavily drawn to the man’s eyelashes. They were black, long, and thick. The way they arched upwards into soft curls were mesmerizing. It was as if they were about to touch the sky but not quite entirely. Every time Jeno would blink, they would ever so lightly graze his cheeks. They fluttered softly and gently. When Jeno finally looked up to glance at Jaemin and their eyes met, Jeno gave him a small smile. Jaemin noticed how his lashes complimented his big round eyes. They made him look almost child-like, beautiful, and otherworldly. 

A sudden beat started to bang on Jaemin’s chest. He forced an inscrutable smile when Jeno reached out his hand for a shake. Out of nowhere, Jaemin’s hand started sweating and his lips quivered— he was nervous. A feat that only happens when a game is about to start, but never with a guy or a person for that matter. He knew how to strike a conversation with a stranger, make friends without any effort, he could get up on stage and belt a Beyonce song even when he is out of tune. Not a hint of nervousness would make him sweat as he trained for five hours.

No matter how hard Jaemin tried to shove it away, he knew the moment he laid eyes on Lee Jeno, he wasn’t just some guy.

Lee Jeno was something entirely different. If Jaemin was an art major, he would have said that the guy's nose was stolen from some Greek god’s statue. And his lips— _god_ _his lip_ s. They look so supple and pink Jaemin wondered if they were as soft as marshmallows. 

Jeno was that good looking. And he, Na Jaemin is utterly impressed.

Jaemin was even more surprised that he has not heard Jeno’s name being spilled out of every girls’ mouth when he’s at parties. Jaemin would like to believe that he’s a cultured man. He knew everything, almost everyone—in a university as big as SU it was impossible to pinpoint every single student and know their majors and even their names, but Jaemin would know immediately if someone was as handsome as Lee Jeno.

“Hello Na Jaemin,” Jeno spoke first and Jaemin steadily inhaled. _God, who knew a voice could be this hot and cute all at the same time? Un-fucking-acceptable._ Jaemin tipped his head in acknowledgment while fighting the rising heat on his cheeks. Jeno gestured for him to sit by his side. Jaemin placed his bag and books and once seated, took a deep breath to steady himself, which backfired enormously. The moment he inhaled, he miscalculated how close he was with Lee Jeno because now a strong waft of freshly laundered clothing and citrus entered his nostrils. The man smells good. _Too good_.

Jaemin gulped and tried to avoid looking Jeno in the eye. 

“Nice to meet you, Lee Jeno.” 

“Jeno is fine,” Jeno smiled. It was quite different from the first one Jaemin saw. His smile was radiating that it almost blinded the heck out of him. Jeno’s eyes turned into tiny crescents and a hint of whiskers protrude from each side, and his teeth, _wow,_ who knew someone’s teeth could look perfectly aligned? 

In an attempt to look cool and level-headed, Jaemin simply nodded and quietly said, “Then Jaemin is fine too.”

“Jaemin,” Jeno hummed and Jaemin never wanted anyone to call his name but Jeno. With his low timber and with a soft lulling voice, Jaemin could comfortably listen to the man talk all day.

“Great. Shall we get started?” 

This was not how Jaemin pictured his day to go by.


End file.
